


Apotheosis

by lovelivesinthedream



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kind of a fix it fic, M/M, Spoilers for Endgame, spoilers for Spiderman: Far From Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 07:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelivesinthedream/pseuds/lovelivesinthedream
Summary: And now everyone looks at Peter with the heavy weight of that expectation in their eyes. They think that he will be the next Tony Stark, but Peter, well, he thinks you can't improve upon perfection.





	Apotheosis

They all expect him to become the next Tony Stark. The newer, better version with less alcoholism and more morals. 

"He wanted you to be better than him," Happy had said to Peter on the jet to London, and yeah, Peter knows. He knows that Mr. Stark wanted him to be a hero that kids could look up to. The kind of hero that didn't drink or smoke or party. The kind of hero that saved kittens _and_ the entire world for no other reason than because he was quintessentially _good_. The type of hero that did things because it was right. A clean cut and worthy hero that deserved the idolization that came along with the job.

Not right away, of course. Someday in the future after Peter had finished at MIT and had enough youthful experiences to feel like he wasn't missing out on his own life by saving everyone else's.

Mr. Stark had wanted a lot for Peter Parker.

And then Mr. Stark had died. 

And now everyone looks at Peter with the heavy weight of that expectation in their eyes. They think that he will be the next Tony Stark, but Peter, well, he thinks you can't improve upon perfection.

The idea comes to him rather abruptly. He's three days into a tinkering binge in Mr. Stark's personal lab at the Avengers' compound. He smells terrible, like stale sweat and bad breath. His hair is a greasy mess, and he's not entirely sure when he last ate. He would worry if the stench was bothering anyone else if he had half the gumption to care about anything right now, or if there was anyone else around. F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems disinclined to allow others entry, so luckily, he's had free reign of the place since he escaped there when all the media outlets began playing the clip of Beck on the bridge.

Now the whole world knows that he's Spiderman. The cat is out of the bag. As if that isn't the very worst thing that could happen to Peter when he's still grieving and mourning, and just trying to stay goddamn alive.

But now he's here in one of the only places he's ever felt truly comfortable and able to be himself. His hands are busy with tools as he goes through the motions of upgrading the suit for probably the twenty-fourth time in the last seventy-two hours. His hands are busy, but his mind is elsewhere. Even in his thoughts he shies away from the gaping wound that is Tony Stark's absence. That leaves him to mentally relive the ordeal in London again and again and again. 

It's on another round of mental self-flagellation that it comes to him. A tiny little thought that creeps up and demands his attention. 

Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing.

Beck had used the B.A.R.F. program to create the illusions he'd used. Peter didn't know a lot about the system, but he remembered watching the livestream of Mr. Stark's demonstration back when he was just a simple fan and Iron Man had yet to personally show up in his bedroom to request help in Germany.

The man had been able to recreate a memory. In impeccable detail and nuance Tony Stark had managed to recreate something that only his mind had been able to preserve until that point. Since that very moment it's become a revolution in care for patients with amnesia, dementia and Alzheimer's. There's no way that the genius hadn't continued to research with B.A.R.F., and the thought has Peter's heart rocketing hopefully in his chest. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" He asks aloud, voice cracked and dry from days of silence. 

"Yes, Peter Parker?"

He takes a deep breath and tries to reel his racing mind away from thoughts of Dr. Cho's Cradle and Vision's origins. He can't get ahead of himself. He can't begin to hope until he's sure he even has a shot. He's squeezing a small Flathead screwdriver so tightly that the metal begins to conform to the shape of his hand.

"Did Mr. Stark continue to experiment with the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing program? With his own memories?"

There's less than a moment, and then the AI is answering in the affirmative, and Peter can't stop the next question from breathlessly spilling from his lips. 

"When was the last time he updated his personal database to be applied to B.A.R.F.?"

"Boss last updated his personal database the night before the Avengers defeated Thanos." There's the hiss of an airlock being released, and then a slim panel that Peter hadn't even noticed in his daze is pushing out from the far wall. F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounds almost pleased, as pleased as an AI can sound, when she continues. "He left strict instructions that only you, Peter Parker, were to have access to his personal database. He said that you would find a way. You would know what to do." 

It's beyond what Peter has the capabilities of comprehending. Mr. Stark not only trusts him with E.D.I.T.H. (which still feels like a task too heavy to hold for someone like Peter or _anyone_ that isn't Tony Stark), but he also trusts Peter with his memories. With his thoughts and feelings and the story of his entire life. Peter has to choke back a sob, a hard lump lodging itself in his throat and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Because he misses Mr. Stark so much that it is unbearable. He has so many questions and not enough answers, and all Peter wants is the safety and calm that Mr. Stark brings him. The peace that he has always found in his presence. 

Beyond all that Peter's mind is already miles ahead. He needs to contact Dr. Cho to get as much information about the Cradle as he can. He's not foolish enough to believe she'll let him use the one that she built. Not after what happened with Ultron. He needs to get in touch with Shuri as soon as possible. She's not likely to help him if she knows the whole plan, but she's a lot like him and Mr. Stark in the way that she's always after the high that only a scientific pursuit can provide. If he words his questions right, if he asks nicely and has a convincing cover story, then she's likely to give him the vibranium that he'll need. He's already surrounded by Mr. Stark's own tech. Here in the lab he's positive that he can find a way to integrate the nanobots and the arch reactor.

Mr. Stark trusts him, and Peter isn't going to let him down again. Not when there's so much on the line, and he needs him back so badly. 

And Peter is only human. He is not good the way Mr. Stark thought he was, although now, with this possibility before him, he's not quite so sure that Mr. Stark thought his intentions were always so pure and innocent. That Mr. Stark didn't know the lengths he would go to for him. The lines he would cross and the morals he would throw away without hesitation.

Because doing what he knows without a doubt he's going to do is wrong for a lot of reasons. (It's not Peter's decision to make. He shouldn't be able to play god. He should ask Pepper or Happy or literally anyone. He shouldn't lie to Shuri or Dr. Cho. He shouldn't hide things from his friends and Aunt May.)

But Peter is human, and so in love that it aches with every breath he takes, and he refuses to live in a world where Tony Stark doesn't exist. He is selfish and calculating, and now more than ever, Peter _wants_ like he never has before. The world gave up on Mr. Stark. They've accepted their losses and cut ties, cried their tears and moved on. And Peter can't. He won't. 

Everyone expects him to be the next Tony Stark.

Peter, well, Peter thinks you can't improve upon perfection. Two years later, when he finally (finally!) is able to open the Cradle that he's painstakingly created (with blood and sweat and tears, and anguish and frustration, and so much secrecy) and he's greeted by the warm brown eyes and soft smirk of Tony Stark, he knows that he's right. Because nothing is more perfect than the sound of Mr. Stark's voice when he says, "I knew I could count on you, kid." Nothing feels as right as the solid and very real weight of Mr. Stark's hand on his shoulder, pulling him in until they're hugging chest to chest. Peter finally feels like he can breath again. Finally feels like he can _live_ again.

They all expect him to be the next Tony Stark. Peter has always been good at exceeding expectations.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think.


End file.
